


Ficlet Friday Ask: MorAdLock Threesome (Part One)

by LegoLock



Series: Friday Ficlets [44]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bondage, Dark Sexy Times, F/M, Gags, M/M, Multi, NSFW, Pegging, Sex, Threesome, cocks, flavoured condoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegoLock/pseuds/LegoLock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hmmmm here is a prompt: Sherlock haughtily agrees to a threesome with Irene and Moriarty. He doesn’t know what he’s in for until he finds himself secured with high security, hinged black handcuffs to an ornate bedpost with his two favorite villains eyeing him like extremely rich chocolate cake. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For sherlockhasfeels on Tumblr

Sherlock hadn’t really considered what a threesome with Jim Moriarty and Irene Adler would entail. And he didn’t care. It sounded so damn exciting and not at all boring that he’d agreed without really thinking through all the possibilities. It wasn’t until he arrived at the place they’d picked to do the deed that he started to get butterflies in his stomach. 

No John Watson to save him if all this went to hell. Sherlock didn’t care. Even as he was greeted by a masked and faceless person at the door. Said person said nothing, but held out a hand. Sherlock deposited his phone, coat, and scarf int the hand before there was an affirmative nod. Then they held up the other hand. A blindfold. Of course.

Sherlock didn’t object, too excited to get on with it to fuss about a blindfold being silly and useless. He simply let the dark fabric smooth his world into darkness and let his faceless guide take him through the place, up stairs, down stairs, around corners and through doors, thoroughly disorienting Sherlock. It was all part of the experience. By the time Sherlock was carefully sat down on the edge of a bed, he was very unaware of just where he was in the building. Good. He liked that only Jim and Irene could truly confuse him.

He was carefully, and quietly, guided into position. In this case that meant Sherlock was shimmied up the bed and laid across it diagonally. His arms were gently directed over his head and around one of the bedposts. It was metallic, but certainly not a plain, prison-like, style. Cool steel tightened at his wrists with a few loud ratcheting clicks. Handcuffs. But unlike the ones Sherlock was accustomed to. They were rigid. There was no chain. Hinges. He could feel the cuffs move only one way, but not nearly as much as would be needed to fidget his way free. Sherlock swallowed hard as the blindfold was removed and his faceless guide walked away.

Leaving Sherlock on display before his audience of two. Jim and Irene stood not far off, staring at the captive detective like they’d just won the lottery. Jim was, as ever, dressed in a suit. But Irene was currently draped in a rather too large overcoat, she was definitely hiding something under it. Sherlock felt his pulse race as he risked a glance to the bedpost. He was greeted by the snarling face of a dragon whose body curved all the way to the ceiling. There was no chance Sherlock could shimmy his way over the post. No fidgeting with the locks. Trapped. With two of his nemesis. Most people wouldn’t be so excited by this….then again, most people weren’t Sherlock Holmes.

Irene practically purred as she strolled across to Sherlock, of course she had her signature riding crop in hand. Of course her heels clicked confidently on the floor. Jim gave her a long stare as she strolled over to the detective. 

“You’ve been wicked, Mister Holmes.” The crop snapped in the air, making Sherlock jump and Jim grin like the cat that swallowed the canary. The tip came to rest just under his chin, stealing his focus back to her as she appraised his long form. “So very…wicked.”

Sherlock swallowed hard, staring up at Irene so determinedly that he missed the small criminal mastermind move to lock the door. “Don’t need any interruptions…” Not that that would be happening, clearly Jim’s men were crawling throughout the place keeping the building locked down for their fun.

With that done, Jim hummed and strolled across the floor. He stopped at the foot of the bed and stroked a finger along the bare skin of Sherlock’s ankle, “My, my…no socks…tut tut…” He purred as he carefully unlaced each of Sherlock’s shoes with a slow meticulous manner that said he was thoroughly enjoying having Sherlock like this. To share with Irene. 

Shoes discarded, Jim casually dragged a feather-light finger along one of Sherlock’s soles, watching the man’s face scrunch up and his toes curl. A snort of laughter escaped Sherlock’s control. Jim smirked wickedly, glancing to Irene…clearly she was very much in charge of this night. She just smirked and nodded subtly. Sherlock barely had a moment to register that Jim was sitting on his legs before the devious criminal was rather ruthlessly tickling him. 

The surprised squeal was followed by peals of laughter as he tried his damnedest to dislodge Jim. 

“Oh, Sherly, you didn’t tell me you were so ticklish, love.” Jim smirked wickedly, clearly enjoying himself, Sherlock wasn’t complaining himself. Maybe because he was rather suddenly getting an eyeful of Irene Adler’s amazingly tempting form in a black latex dress that honestly should have been horrifically tacky, but it only made Sherlock’s pulse rush…all the blood heading south in a heartbeat.

She casually leaned over the captive detective, waiting for Jim to give him a break before stealing a breathless, gasping, kiss as she started to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. Sherlock desperately curled his fingers and tried to hang onto the sweep tasting kiss, but Jim was ruthless and he couldn’t kiss Irene and laugh at the same time. 

That didn’t stop Irene from shifting his shirt aside and sliding it up towards his captive hands to bare his chest. Only then did Jim cease his merciless tickling to turn and admire the panting detective’s pale skin. Pale and scarred. Jim’s eyes lingered on every one, undoubtedly jealous he hadn’t caused them. He reached to trace one which curved from his hip bone to somewhere unknown under his trousers. 

“So rough on your poor body…” Irene chided softly as she smoothed a hand down his chest and gently dug her thumbnail into one nipple then the other. Drawing hisses of pleasurable pain between pants.

Jim slowly loosened his tie, tossing it aside and shrugging out of his jacket. Gently, he reached out to tug Irene down beside Sherlock and then leaned in close to give her a soft, sweet, but clearly hungry, kiss. Sherlock watched, licking his lips. An uncomfortable pressure from his cock pressing into his zipper growing with every soft moan and gentle hiss. 

Jim may have been kissing Irene, but his eyes were locked with Sherlock.Irene broke the kiss with a smirk, letting Jim continue to undress himself while she toyed with the fly of Sherlock’s trousers. Sherlock couldn’t hold back the groan when she slowly unfastened it and pulled his cock fully into view. Her long, strong, fingers just even touching it so were enough to make Sherlock see stars.

Jim scowled as he tossed his shirt away, not because Sherlock was clearly very turned on, but because he wasn’t getting to put hands on the man first. He growled, in a playful manner, as he unfastened his own trousers and crawled up Sherlock’s body, straddling his hips gently and leaning over to claim the detective’s full lips for his own. 

This kiss was firm, demanding, and very much showing Sherlock that Jim was taking charge. Especially with his tongue all but filling Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock didn’t complain. He didn’t mind. Why would he? His focus was severely divided and scattered. Jim dominating his mouth and Irene tugging his trousers down to toss them somewhere really was hard to track.

Irene wrapped her arms around Jim’s chest, toying with the criminal’s own trousers as she straddled Sherlock’s thighs and squeezed herself up behind Jim. Sherlock gasped a harsh breath in as Jim finally broke the kiss to groan softly when Irene’s hands slipped into Jim’s trousers and quite obviously wrapped around Jim’s cock. 

She gently guided it out for Sherlock to see. And what a sight. Jim was much larger than Sherlock could have deduced. Larger, sleeker, and well groomed. Sherlock found himself licking his lips, focusing hard on the stroke of Irene’s long fingers over Jim’s ever hardening cock. Jim rocked gently in her hands, groaning and cursing under his breath. Sherlock couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to taste that cock. Jim quite clearly read his mind…or perhaps Irene had. Either way, Jim was slowly shimming up along Sherlock’s chest, his head turned over his shoulder to try and steal kisses from Irene who was trailing after him. 

In a few moments, Jim was kneeling over Sherlock’s head and Irene was gently unwrapping two condoms. Two? Sherlock’s mind was fuzzy with pleasure so he couldn’t quite figure why they needed two. He didn’t have much time to think on it, since once again he was watching Irene’s fingers in action, they deftly rolled a condom into place over Jim’s cock. 

“Chocolate flavoured, just for you Sherlock.” Irene purred, then she too his own cock in hand and repeated the same task. He long fingers deftly rolled the condom into place. Sherlock’s cock throbbed almost painfully at even that. He was sensitive. And he was excited. He wet his lips and tried his very best to stay still while Irene casually positioned herself to straddle Sherlock’s cock.

Jim watched. How could he not want to watch? She was the perfect tease. The perfect pleasure, and clearly very skilled at this particular position since she quite easily slipped down Sherlock’s now lubricated length with ease. Slowly, with the greatest pleasure. The heat of her vagina around his penis was mind blowing and drew and unbelievable noise that Jim had never head before from Sherlock. A whimper? A groan? Whatever it was, Jim couldn’t help but groan himself and lower his hips just enough for Sherlock to reach up and wrap his lips around Jim’s cock.

Jim hissed with pleasure, wrapping fingers in the long curls to help hold the man’s head up as he worked hard to slowly suck up and down the length of Jim’s cock, which indeed did taste rather like chocolate now. Sherlock wouldn’t be able to eat chocolate without getting a hard-on ever again.

Irene moaned softly, her eyes closed for just a moment as she settled on Sherlock’s hips. Taking just a few moments to adjust to his cock before she started a slow rhythm. Sherlock groaned, the sound rumbling thought his mouth and over Jim’s cock. Which hardly helped Jim any as he gently rocked his hips in time with Sherlock’s own bobbing. Irene rode. Sherlock Sucked. Jim rocked. And Sherlock bucked. 

The detective had never felt anything quite like this, his mind was overwhelmed and focused on the singular task of pleasing both the people over him. They seemed to be bent on doing the same. Irene reached forward with one hand to drag her nails down Jim’s back. Leaving trailing marks and making the man arch his back abruptly. His cock rammed down Sherlock’s throat, which Sherlock didn’t at all mind, his nose almost pressed into the perfectly groomed and fine hairs at the base of Jim’s cock. Almost. Jim groaned, loudly, at the sight of Sherlock taking his cock all the way down his throat. 

“Fuck!” The criminal gasped, Sherlock knew full well what that meant. Hell, he could feel the spasms long before Jim began to buck in earnest with his orgasm. Irene was smirking wickedly, riding Sherlock in time with the other’s orgasm. Just as Jim finished, Sherlock felt Irene tighten around him.

She threw he head back, eyes closed and mouth open like she might scream with pleasure, but only the softest gasps escaped her lips. Sherlock shuddered as she rode out her orgasm on his throbbing cock, the one in his mouth slowly being removed as Jim panted over him. 

The criminal mastermind was spent, but he reached down behind him to stroke fingers along Sherlock’s sensitive sides. The tickling coupled with Irene’s bucking and Jim’s perfectly blissful face was all Sherlock needed to join his partners. He did cry out, rather loudly. Unable to help himself. He was loud. He was sensitive. And usually he was utterly embarrassed by this…but Jim was grinning, eyes bright with pleasure. He didn’t say anything, simply shimmying back so he could kiss the man’s lips again while he screamed and groaned out his pleasure. Irene continued to ride him to the end of his…until his cock went soft. Only then did she ease off him. Jim held the kid just a moment after that, then slipped to one side with a soft sigh of contentment. 

Irene stroked fingers over Jim’s hip and down Sherlock’s thigh, she panted gently, “We’ve barely just started, Jim, don’t tell me you’re tired already?”

Sherlock’s toes curled and his head perked up just a bit at those words. There was going to be more…?


	2. Ficlet Friday Ask: MorAdLock Threesome Pegging (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Irene pegging Sherlock or Jim in the next section of the Fic? *drools*"

There certainly was more coming. As it turned out, Sherlock was doomed to watch this round. Which was wonderful, since he could recover, but also terrible since once he got a look at what was going to happen…well…he was rather jealous. 

Irene slipped off the bed, strolling around the room towards a small innocent looking beg, a few moments of rummaging about and she found what she wanted. 

Sherlock strained his neck to see it. 

A rather intimidating, and sleek black, strapon. Sherlock’s ass clenched and his flaccid cock twitched with interest. Jim, however, licked his lips eagerly. 

“Please…” Sherlock began to beg, he wanted that…but Irene tutted and held up a finger to silence him.

Jim, however, wasn’t so subtle with his commands. He gave Sherlock a rather sharp look, one that said he best be quiet. The small villain eased off the bed to rummage through the bag himself, finding a suitable gag for the noisy detective. 

A suitable gag turned out to be a very large, somewhat obscenely orange coloured ball. No straps. Just a large rubbery looking thing. Sherlock started to protest, again.

“I can be quiet without–” Jim was on him again, straddling his hips, so Sherlock’s lips clamped shut. It was a futile fight…Sherlock knew it was. 

Perhaps it was that need to rebel against the criminal holding the ball to his lips that prompted him to react so. “Open, Sherlock.” Jim’s voice had gone from sweet and sexy to his rather wickedly dark one. The one that he’d spoken to Sherlock with when they’d first met. At the pool.

Sherlock swallowed hard, the first inklings that, perhaps, a threesome with two villains was unwise crossed his mind then. It was brief, though, as Irene strolled back over to the tense situation. This time she had the strapon in place, harness snugged tight against her flesh. Sherlock really couldn’t help but stare and whine, if only his refractory period was faster…he might have been so lucky as to be the one getting that…

The soft whimper that eased his lips open was all Jim needed to wedge a finger between his teeth and then the ball was soon to follow. Sherlock made an irritated noise as the thing flattened his tongue to the floor of his mouth and stretched his jaw to capacity. Jim squeezed his cheeks, a bit too firmly, and somewhat forced him to look at him. “Next time…shut up…” He hissed softly, so softly that Sherlock questioned if he’d said anything at all.

The moment passed quickly, though, as Irene leaned over to give Jim a shove. A shove that sent the criminal falling forward. He caught himself with his hands, which placed them on either side of Sherlock’s face. Sherlock stared up at Jim, who was all but shuddering as Irene casually worked herself up behind him.

She held up a tube for Sherlock to observe. Lube. So much lube. It was liberally applied to both the strapon and Jim’s arse. How could Sherlock know when his face was all but full of a criminal mastermind?

The copious amount dripped down onto Sherlock’s skin, making him whine and squirm. Jim groaned gently as Irene eased the tip of the strapon up between Jim’s slicked cheeks. Sherlock could only watch Jim’s face twist and scrunch as the strapon slowly circled his hole oh so tenderly. Irene took her time, in no hurry to take Jim from behind and make the very incapacitated detective watch.

Jim’s breath hitched when Irene finally pressed the slick black silicone in, pressing past the tensed muscle ring slowly and making Jim squirm and pant. His cock slowly twitched to life. Clearly very interested in the full sensation slowly building in his arse. 

Irene paused. Smirking and gripping Jim by the hips. Then, smoothly, but swiftly, she pulled him back towards her hips. Jim’s breath swooshed from his lungs with a strangled noise, his lips in the perfect _‘O’_ of surprised pleasure. His cock all but jumped to attention as Irene held him there a moment, letting Jim adjust for only just a moment. 

Then she started rocking, Jim gasped sharply and curled his hands into the fabrics of the sheets beside Sherlock’s head. His eyes burned intensely as he stared down at the silenced detective. Sherlock stared back. There was something there…something more behind the pleasure.

Jim blinked and it was gone as Irene rocked a bit more. A bit rougher. The lewdest slapping of arse flesh against latex and soft skin began to grow with every thrust and groan. Sherlock’s eyes flicked down to Jim’s cock, drawn down by the leaking fluid hitting Sherlock’s stomach and hips.

Jim leaned down, pressing his lips to Sherlock’s neck, suckling the flesh as Irene roughly thrust her hips against his raised arse. Sherlock’s eyelids fluttered as Jim’s tongue laved at his sensitive neck. Jim’s soft suckling turned to tender bites that moved to Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock shuddered hard and groaned mutely around the ball in his mouth as Jim’s teeth pressed harshly into his flesh.

They were to the point of bruising, maybe breaking the skin, when Jim finally groaned and gasped, letting go as his body shuddered. Gripped by his second orgasm of the night. It was just as strong as the first, maybe Jim was even more sensitive as he did cry out rather sharply and curl his fingers in the sheets quite roughly. Irene kept right on rocking until Jim was well sated and Sherlock was certainly well coated in ejaculate. 

She smoothed fingers over his heaving flanks and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. A quick wink to Sherlock promised more was on its way…a dark, sated, glance from the criminal with his head on the detective’s chest suggested something more…perhaps sinister.

“Not through with you yet, Sherly…” Jim murmured softly.

Sherlock swallowed hard and wondered, once more, at the wisdom of a threesome with criminals.


End file.
